Porsches On Parade

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Oct 30, 2009

For performance car lovers, there is no substitute for driving a precision-tuned, high-horsepower vehicle. But a considerable amount of pleasure can be derived by simply being in the presence of greatness. In the run-up to this week's New York International Auto Show (which opens to the public April 14th), there is no shortage of hoopla for the press. And that means lots of hoity-toity parties filled with hot cars, good food and drink, and beautiful people—who are no doubt paid to be there. Then, of course, there are the shulubby car geeks like us who marvel at the automobiles but stare in bafflement at the hipster social scene that surrounds them.
Nowhere was this more true than last night's Porsche soiree at Manhattan's Splashlight Studios—velvet ropes at the door, DJs spinning music, catering by fancy sushi joint Nobu, and Veuve Clicquot Champagne by the fluteful. This reporter felt a bit uncomfortable in jeans and a sport coat amongst all the Armani-clad citizens of New York's fashion-forward elite—never quite sure if said outfit is "in" or "out" this year. But despite all the hubbub, the stars of the evening were undoubtedly the two new 911 Turbos parked in the middle of the party. The facts and figures on this vehicle are overwhelming: 480 hp comes from its double-turbocharged 3.6-liter boxer engine. This blown 911 has new "variable turbine geometry" turbochargers with electronically adjustable guide vanes that can change the flow of exhaust gas onto the turbine wheels, optimizing boost for any engine speed. And a new specially-designed Tiptronic transmission lets drivers brake torque their way from 0 to 60 in just 3.4 seconds—although it should be noted that the two cars on display last night were both manuals. Nevertheless, they were fun to look at, and lots of people were doing just that (sure enough, though, multiple oglers popped the hood of the 911 Turbo and asked: "Where's the engine?"). All in all, fumbling through the pretense of the affair was well worth the effort, if only to sit in the seats of those marvelous machines, lay hands on the steering wheel, close my eyes and think of twisty roads far from Manhattan—and the sushi wasn't that bad either. —Glenn Derene